Every time I feel a shitty emotion, I’ve been conditioned to try & escape. Why? What happens if I (gasp) just sit and feel it in all its ugly glory?
He wouldn’t have come within ten feet of my crazy. I was the same person back then, but he wouldn’t have been able to see it. I couldn’t even see it, after all.
Today, 2.74 years, 1,000 days, or 1,440,000 minutes after I stopped drinking, I’m reflecting on the way things have changed from Day 1 to Day 1000.